


Hands-on

by Merwin_Me



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Bad Touch, Badwrong, Dark Chris Argent, M/M, Protective Jackson Whittemore, Scared Jackson Whittemore, Scared Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski & Jackson Whittemore Friendship, Underage - Freeform, handsy chris, mentions of - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 07:55:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15945047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merwin_Me/pseuds/Merwin_Me
Summary: Oh Christ. Stiles had been in a lot of close contact with an apparently touchy Argent, and Jackson hadn’t noticed. Hadn’t been there to notice.





	Hands-on

Jackson stood still as he felt Chris Argent’s hand squeeze his neck one more time, before letting go as he moved back to his own car. Jackson didn’t close the hood of his Porsche for a long moment, not until he had heard the Argent’s car pull out.

 

Only then did he slam the hood closed, trying to keep his limbs from trembling.

 

Stiles - whose timely entrance by jeep had cause Argent to leave - shot him a worried look even as he moved closer to Jackson.

 

He would’ve told Stiles where he could shove it, but Stiles spoke up before he could.

 

“Jax, are you alright?”

 

Goddamnit. God damn Argent for being so damn touchy, and god damn Stiles for using his nickname - the one he hadn’t heard from Stiles since they were kids. It shut him up before he could start spewing hatred.

 

A hatred that Stiles did not deserve.

 

Instead of answering, Jackson placed his hands on top of the hood, scowling when he saw that his fingers were trembling.

 

“Has he-” Stiles seemed to hesitate for a moment, face twisting in apprehension before he moved in closer, “has he done that before?”

 

Jackson wanted to hit himself. The apprehension on Stiles’ face, the one his childhood friend was pushing through, was for  _ him _ . Stiles was afraid of how he would react.

 

God, they’d both fucked up a damn good friendship so easily, and for what? Lydia Martin?

 

Don’t get him wrong, Jackson admired Lydia just as Stiles admired her, but he and Stiles had been a good team. Close like brothers. A lot closer than Scott thought he was to Stiles.

 

There may have been a universe in which their friendship would never mend, but it wouldn’t be this one. Not with what Stiles had just noted as well, not with Stiles clearly showing he still gave a damn, showing that he still cared for Jackson.

 

“Not like that.” Jackson finally muttered, reaching out to Stiles and grabbing his hand before the boy could realize he was moving. “Shit Sti, not like that  _ at all _ .”

 

Jackson could feel Stiles freeze all over - and  _ damn him _ for hurting Stiles enough that he was afraid to be so close to him - and Jackson gently squeezed his hand. Even as a shudder went down his spine as he felt the phantom touch where Argent had just been touching him.

 

“He’s touched my arm and my neck before,” Jackson continued without further prompting even as Stiles slowly relaxed under his grip, “but he just - he was all along my back, Sti. I could  _ feel _ his breath on my neck, I can still feel it. He’s never been -  _ goddamnit _ .”

 

And just like that, Stiles’ worry was on the forefront once again, inching closer to Jackson. Looking - looking like he understood.

 

Like he knew exactly what Jackson was talking about.

 

Jackson turned abruptly so that he was facing Stiles, and he grabbed him by the shoulders, momentarily unaware of how Stiles stiffened out of shock and fear when he did so.

 

“Sti, has he touched you? When did that happen? Stiles?”

 

Jackson was shaking Stiles, only to let go as if burned when Stiles let out a whimper.

 

Right. He’d  _ hurt  _ his first real friend.

 

“Oh god, I’m sorry Stiles, I wasn’t thinking. It’s just - that man-” Jackson cut himself off with a snarl, angry at himself as he looked away, not wanting to see the fear for him in Stiles’ eyes.

 

“No, it’s alright.”

 

Jackson shot him a disbelieving glance, and Stiles amended his words.

 

“Yea, it’s not alright. But we were both stupid kids, Jax. And I missed you, but I can’t just forget, okay?”

 

“I get that.” Jackson took a deep breath, slowly reaching to Stiles again, lips quirking up when Stiles took a hold of his hand. “Not anymore though, okay Sti? I promise.”

 

For a long moment, Stiles just looked quietly at Jackson, seeming to be reading his mind simply by looking at him, before Stiles slowly nodded.

 

A silence fell over the two, but their hands didn’t detach.

 

It was Stiles who spoke up again a few minutes later, voice low and hesitant.

 

“I’ve seen him around school sometimes. He grasps my shoulder, and he led me through a hallway once with a hand on my lower back. And he - he comes around the house sometimes. To talk to my father.”

 

Oh Christ. Stiles had been in a lot of close contact with an apparently touchy Argent, and Jackson hadn’t noticed. Hadn’t been there to notice.

 

“Has he done anything - well, anything?”

 

Anything more than touching and leading, made any even more inappropriate advances? It was unsaid, but Stiles seemed to know exactly what he was asking anyway. Just like he could when they were younger.

 

“No, not really. He just...he does call me boy a lot. And when he walks by me at home, he always drags a hand through my hair.”

 

Jackson watched a shudder go through Stiles, and he didn’t think before pulling Stiles close to him. And instead of pulling away or flailing in surprise, Stiles just melted in his embrace.

 

No, not melted. Tried to disappear.

 

“I watched him.” Stiles was barely audible from where his face was buried in Jackson’s chest. “To see if he was like that with anyone else. But he wasn’t. Not until I saw he had cornered you. And I couldn’t just leave you with him, I wouldn’t.”

 

Great. Apparently, he and Stiles had been singled out by the terrifying Argent. That was just great.

 

“We’re going to have to start avoiding him.” Jackson finally said, continuing before Stiles could butt in. “When he comes over to your house, come over to my place. If I’m not home, sneak into my room through my window. But get the hell away from him, alright?”

 

Hazel eyes peaked up at him through thick eyelashes, before Stiles nodded into his chest.

 

“Don’t suppose going to the police will help?” Jackson added dryly, not surprised when Stiles snorted without humor.

 

“And who would believe us? The town thinks we’re troublemakers looking for attention, while Argent does actual business with the police department and has made friends with the deputies. We’d be laughed out of the room.”

 

Yea. Their individual reputations would rather work against them in that, considering both their propensity to lie or twist the truth if it helped them.

 

“Buddy system it is then.”

 

“I’m often alone at school, though.” Stiles spoke up hesitantly, squeaking as he was immediately smushed against Jackson again.

 

“Not anymore. You sit with me. I don’t care if McCall joins or what Lydia thinks, you’re not leaving my side.”

 

Danny wasn’t even mentioned - because both knew Danny would just be relieved that they had finally stopped fighting and made up.

 

Of course, the next months would just show the two boys that when Chris Argent wants something, well.

 

He’ll break laws to get it.


End file.
